Page 46 of Go Back to December

“You run a café.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to love everything on the menu.”

“You make a lot of omelets.”

“And omelets make us a lot of money.”

“Don’t you think you’re over-leveraged in something you don’t care for?”

A knock sounds at the door, and I’m thankful I’m the more mobile of the two of us so I can rush to see who it is.

Dooley stands outside, wrapped in a cashmere scarf and bearing an overflowing file box.

He peers over his aviator sunglasses. “MelJo.”

“Dooligan.”

“Touché. Shall we continue swapping portmanteaus in the hall, or can I come the fuck in?”

As he strides into the apartment, he and Baz greet each other with pleasant insults. Dooley slings the file box onto the table.

“What is all this?” I ask.

“Financial records for the café, requested by the Merger Integration Team.” Dooley rubs his hands together. “Told them it would take at least a week.”

Baz nods. “That will give us time to go through them first.”

I stare at the file box, blink at Baz, then at Dooley.

“What?” Dooley asks.

“You’re helping.” J’accuse.

“Dooley’s on the Finance Committee,” Baz supplies.

“So is Lacy,” I counter.

“Lacy litigates intellectual property.” Dooley folds his arms over his expensive scarf. “I’m the junior partner with the most billable hours and court appearances in the tax and finance practice.”

J.R. Dooley, the veritable patron saint of Money Honeys. No surprise there.

What is surprising is that Dooley is now party to this crime, and Baz has recruited his support without saying a single word to me about it. It takes effort to remind myself that the plan to save the café is bigger than Baz and me.

I’m not sure why I wanted it to stay that way.

Dooley glances at Baz. “You ready?”

“Let me get my coat.”

“Are we going somewhere?” I ask.

“Physical therapy.” Baz limps to the closet to pull on a jacket. Disappointingly, not the replacement camel coat his mother bought him, but a black insulated jacket with no soul whatsoever.

I glance at my watch. “What time do you want me to pick you up?”

“Dooley will wait for me.”

“Oh, okay.”